“Don’t play coy. I can smell it!” he growls and I freeze. He can smell it? Wouldn’t I have picked it up too? Then again I’m not in my Nephalem form—my real form. My senses are lower than his at the moment. Maybe Altair isn’t over reacting. “That particular stench of yours only adds to my theory.”
“Is he all right?” Vedric asks me as he rises on his feet. The fear is gone from his eyes and I give him a confused look. Vedric sighs. “And here I thought I had you Lady Nindo.” He smiles at me and I stare. Altair tenses. He knew! “A moment longer and I would have torn off your head and devoured you innards.” I glare. Altair growls low and I hear his inner dragon.
“If that is so, then who are you?” I ask, slightly pushing myself from Altair but enough to show I’m not fragile but enough to grasp onto Altair should something happen. I think back to the times in the Order, Vedric was rather strange hanging back; his eyes trailing Altair with desire. I brushed it off as some sort of male crush but now I see that wasn’t the case. If this is what I think it is, it’s a Zartonian: a dragon eater. He glanced at Altair with desire to devour him not sleep with him. ’Why did the Lord have to give us a dragon hungry monster?’ Altair doesn’t respond. It’s not that I expect him to.
“Why is that…I wonder?” asks Vedric as he glances at me. He read my thoughts. No surprise that’s how they hunt us.
“Who are you?” I demand once more.
“What, you think I Am.” he states. His limbs begin to jolt and crack and his skin—slowly sheds—peeling back the life of his existence. The ground creates a fissure under us and Altair locks me in his arms and takes off, we hover, several meters above the ground. The leafless canopy swims below us and Vedric becomes that, a ‘Zartonian’. It has the appearance of a dragon but isn’t as beautiful or alluring. Instead it has dark brown crackling scales and golden blood shot eyes. Its claws crash onto the ground and its wings begin to flap as it rises from the ground. Altair mutters a curse and jets away from the beast, I hear its roar and the wind brushes around us causing our hair to flap and dance in the wind. He increases his speed and drops me down on the ground before taking off, I stop.
“What are you doing? You can’t leave me here alone!” I growl.
“I’m not alone, Varden’s not too far away.” He looks deep into my eyes as if searching for some form of emotion I may or may not have been able to express, before adding, “I’ll be back.” He promises and takes off into the sky. The screech of the Zartonian enters my ears and I slip around behind a tree, hoping it doesn’t find me. I hear it cry out in pain and the sound of sonic bombs. Altair’s battling it. The green flashing lights confirms my theory from where I see the sight through the gap of the branches. The Zartonian begins to move away from where I am and I sprint towards the camp.
I hear a cry of pain.
“Varden!” I cry and run hard. I leap over longs and uneven ground. I had to get to him, I had to protect him and I had to ensure he isn’t killed. I force my way through the foliage and come face to face with a man, he holds a rifle. I regard it questionably. Why would he have a rifle? Where would he get it?
B-A-N-G!
“Kalverya!” My chest hurts and I place a hand on where the pain radiates from to see black liquid covering my scales, staring down at the snow there are droplets not of black but of crimson. Blood. My blood. It trickles between my outstretched fingers and lands on the ground in splashing droplets. I can hear Varden’s voice and I drop to my knees. “Kalverya!”
My vision is slightly hazy but I needed time which I fear I don’t have. How did this happen? Their bullets aren’t made of metal from this world. I can still hear Varden’s voice but only barely the man who shot me continues to stalk towards me aiming his primitive rifle. At least I know they didn’t get it from Earth—I don’t know whether to be pleased or mad. I feel a numb sensation converging my wound and feel a warm heat. The man glances down at me wide eyed.
I stand on my feet.
“Next time you try to kill someone, aim for the head.”
I sprint towards him and shove my claws through his torso where he gasps and shudders at my impact. Men start firing their weapons towards me and I slip and dodge. My dragon is taking control of my movements. It’s only natural. When we are wounded we end up losing our civil sense and we become primal. On instinct my body takes over and I take out the men with my claws. One by one they fall. My body is on auto-pilot—I couldn’t even break the trance I’m in. My senses are heightened. So is my speed and strength, I feel invincible. The pool of blood soaks into the snow at my feet. I stand over a man on his knees, his arms are up afore him as he cowers down before me. His rifle at his knees which I remember he had dropped some time prior to his position.
He whimpers and something is wrapped around me. I growl my voice—deeper, fiercer. Heat radiates around my arms almost burning me and I feel hot breath against my ear. “No more, please stop. He surrenders.” the voice says and I’m finding it hard to understand who it belongs to. The man before me nods his head repetitively. “He surrenders leave him be.” says the voice again.
The heat I’m wrapped around is like gentle metal, it’s against my back and over my shoulder. I don’t know what it is but I can’t fight it. Not because I can’t but because I won’t. It draws my mind and bit by bit, reality returns to me. “Please, stop.” says the same voice. I recognize it. It’s Varden’s voice. “We’re safe now. I’m safe now. Spare him.” he whispers pleadingly. I feel something wet and warm fall over my scales.
“Varden?” I question. Turning to him I see one side of his face is damp. He cried. But why? “Are you alright, what’s wrong?” I ask quickly. Hoping the words will quell his pain. Instinctively I place my hand against one side of his face and wipe away the trail the tear had left.
“You’re back.” I’m lost.
“Where did I go?” I ask, not registering.
“You don’t remember.” he states his eyes are firm yet sad and I nod. Before I can get another answer from him, I hear a familiar screech. It beast crashes not too far from us delivering a tremendous crater beneath it.
A blue black and silver majestic dragon lays on the ground. Blood pours out of its wound. Its blue eyes regard us weakly before it whimpers in pain. Varden pushes me behind him. “Altair!” I scream and run to him. I stroke his silver hair that files from his head down to the tip of his tail. I rest his large head on my lap and stoke him. He’s hurt badly. ’Altair, where does it hurt?’ I ask him mentally and place my head against his muzzle. I can feel his breath exhale through his sharp incisors but I’m not scared. How can I, when I could do the same thing at one point?
He growls lightly, ’My chest…the Zartonian, got its teeth into me.’ His clawed paws move to reveal more blood and I look at him with fear. ’I’ll be fine.’
‘Still I have to do something. I can’t lose you.’ I gently place his head on the ground and move over to his wound and Varden stands not too far away his eyes darting over Altair’s dragon form.
“Kalverya? I don’t see Altair.” says Varden slowly.
‘Idiot!’ growls Altair and I smile. I touch the edges of his wound and he winces in pain. I scan the area there’s nothing much we can use. I’ll need to emasculate and clean his wound.
“Find me some fire wood.” I say. Attending Altair.
“What? For?” asks Varden.
“There’s no time. Hurry!” I growl and he scurries away leaving me alone with my injured companion. ’You can be a big idiot sometimes. You know we aren’t invincible. We aren’t immortal. We still die.’ I growl as I assess his wounds. I slip my hand down into my belt to pull out a balm but only realize than I handed it to Varden. ’Perfect.’
‘What’s wrong?’
‘I gave my balm to Varden.’ I say.
‘Why?’ growls Altair and I push him back down as he tries to move. He’s set back in place.
‘Don’t get snappy! I had no choice. He was burnt.’ I retort.
‘He doesn’t look burnt.’ replies Altair and I glare at him.
‘He was sun burnt.’ That shuts him up. He above all people should know how dangerous the rays are, in his human form on Earth he would often be burnt by the sun’s UV rays not that he allows me to forget it.
‘What’s the firewood for?’ he asks.
‘To give Varden something to do, other than gape,’ I hear a deep rumble vibrate from within him and his mouth is stretched into a smile that only those who have been around dragons, can tell the difference. Some instead think they are growling when that’s not the case. Altair may be formidable but he’s no monster.
‘I thought he would be used to the Mystic by now.’ comments Altair.
‘He may be used to the Mystic but he has no experience when it comes to us. I’m pretty sure it will be the same should he encounter a Vampire or Siren.’ After I’ve assessed the wound, I blow gently on it. I wasn’t blowing wind but lightly blowing fire, not on it but close enough to kill the bacteria. I hear Altair grunt as he tries to manage with the pain. After I’m done, I pull out a cloth from my utility belt and compare it to his incision. Still I can’t help but feel slightly annoyed. We need herbs and fast. The question though is when and where can we get it. He’ll need to return back to his Nephalem form if he ever hopes on healing. ’Why don’t you return to your previous stature? That should help with the healing?’
Altair does as I’ve offered and his large limbs return to normal and he rests in the snow and I move from where I am meters from him and towards his head, placing it on my lap. “We should do this more often.” he says after sometime of staring at me as I assess his face where some abrasions and nicks. Above all he seems fine.
“What? You being, almost killed?”
“No. This.” he says and I look at him confused. He leans towards me and plants a kiss on my lips, his hand, plays at the roots of my hair and at that moment I hear a loud clutter which draws both of our attention. There stands Varden, red faced and mad. Why is he mad?
“I’ve brought your wood. If you wanted to be alone you should have said so!” he snaps and walks away—rather storms away.
“What’s with him?” I question aloud.
15:Crossroad
© 2014—All rights reserved by author
“Looks like someone’s jealous.” comments Altair and I look at him with a frown. “What?”
“You knew he was there?”
“No.” I raise a brow and he sighs. “Maybe…” I growl. I stand, leaving Altair lying on the ground calling out after me. I’m furious with Altair and with Varden. Those two can act like such children playing these stupid games and now as a result someone’s hurt. Stupid Altair! Stupid Varden! I sit down on a boulder and remove my helmet. I throw it on the ground, frustrated. I haven’t moved away too far from the clearing just far enough from Altair. “Kal! I’m sorry!” he calls.
“Sure, you are.” I mutter under my breath knowing he can hear me and after that I don’t hear his voice anymore. He can be such a jerk! It’s one thing to flaunt his alpha male ego it’s another to purposely hurt someone. Now look, what’s happened. I place my head in my hands and mutter curses at me, at Varden, at Altair and question why Neragarden is playing these games with me. He must enjoy watching me in pain. It’s only understandable though, I’m supposed to be with Altair yet I feel guilty for hurting Varden. Why do I feel guilty though? Since when did he become important?
“Now that was something.” calls a voice and I turn to see Lifet. I scowl.
“What do you want?” I snap.
“Whoa, don’t be mad at me because your boyfriend was showing what he owned.” I glare at him. What did he mean by that? And why does he continue to call him my boyfriend? Why does he seem to show up at the most conspicuous times?
“I’m not mad at you and what did you mean he was showing that he owned me. I’m not some item to be sold off or bought. Thank you!” I growl and I stand to walk towards the frozen river not too far from where the boulder was. Lifet continues to follow, not that I blame him. I do kind of need someone around. Not that I’ll voice that out loud.
That will only just make me more vulnerable.
That will just give him another edge to use against me should he need to. Why are men and this universe difficult to comprehend? I take that back the universe is easy to comprehend it’s the men in it that’s difficult. “Can’t live with them, can’t live without them.” I mutter as I glare at the frozen ice hoping I somehow developed Superman’s made up heat vision. I’ve never come across a species with heat vision or with the ability to soak the yellow suns radiation into their cells and gain power, maybe gain energy but not power. “Comic books,”
“What are comic books?” asks Lifet as he sits beside me. I didn’t even hear him walk up behind me. I have no idea if this man should be called an Assassin, he should be given the term Ninja. He’s so silent and evasive.
“They’re…” I trail off trying to find a more suitable way to describe them. “Short stories with pictures,” I say.
“I thought stories weren’t supposed to have pictures.” he comments.
“That’s true to a degree but this is a different type of story all together. It’s not a children’s story but it can be read by children and adults. There are different type of characters with super speed, super strength, some are even gods or there are super smart people that make suits or gadgets. It’s all about imagination.” I say and Lifet’s brows arch as he takes in my words. Disbelief is evident on his features, it’s hilarious. I would consider not telling them about stuff from the future but I haven’t time travelled I’ve only just transferred from one galaxy to another—to one with younger years and obviously lesser intelligence.
“How can a god be in a book?” he asks. I sigh; he’s come to believe that the gods are all around him. It’s the stars, the earth, the wind, the mountains and I’m starting to only just now learn that there’s a lot more gods on this world than I thought there was.
“It’s a story. It’s not like the God of Earth was placed in a book. The god is a part of the Viking religion.”
“What’s a Viking?” he peers and I laugh. “What?”
“Nothing, nothing,” He can be completely dense with some things but I’ve come to know that he’s a really sharp and clever man, who, if not careful will kill you in your sleep. At times I have to remind myself the year here is the ‘eighteen hundreds’. Still they appear to have advanced a lot more than the Humans in some areas—not all but some.
Being around Lifet really did manage to help me forget about all my quarrels with the boys. I had explained to him what a Viking was, where they lived and how long ago and on what world his eyes light up in surprise and I laughed. Then we began to talk about the history of Earth and how each country came to be. “That’s not a story is it?” he asked at some point and I shake my head not helping at the wide grin on my features.
I can’t remember how long it’s been but the sun begins to rise and I feel a lot better now. “This morning is so going to be awkward.” I voice out loud. Now it’s his turn to laugh. I growl at him and push him where he tumbles off the log we had moved to from our position beside the river. He falls into a pile of snow. “That’s not funny!” I growl. I stand and cross my arms, turning my back on him.
“You’re right it’s not but this is.” Something cold hits the back of my head and snow falls over my cloak and scales before tumbling to the ground.
“You did not just throw snow at me.” I say turning around slowly glancing at Lifet. A snow ball is in his hand and he shrugs.
“Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t.” he teases and I pile some snow in my hand and throw it at him. He’s shocked at my action. “You did not just throw snow at me.” I smile.
“Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t.” We both laugh and spend our morning in a snow fight. It is actually nice to have a fight without actually hurting someone. Also, it made me feel like a kid again. It made me feel like th
e child I was never given a chance to be. Lifet had built his own fortress and as did I even though mine wasn’t as sturdy. He had knocked it down saying that he was Superman.
He continued to use that phrase after I had explained to him who Superman was and what he could do since the snow may have hit him it didn’t hurt him and so he used the reference with the bullets. I laughed and he tackled me to the ground forcing snow into my face. By the time we were done it was mid-morning and both of us were hungry. “Why don’t we find some fresh game?” he asks.
“Sure.” I say and we rise from the ground searching the forest. “Just let me tell the others where I’m going. They’ll flip if I don’t.”
I can see that he feels almost left out by not being around my comrades. He may be an Assassin but he hasn’t killed me and from what I can tell may not even in the future. I shake my head, he smiles and I lead the way. The fire is going from what I can tell Altair had it going and managed to find a meal for Varden, the stew he made is now gone.
“Sorry but you missed breakfast.” comments Altair casually, his legs kicked up on a piece of log where his body is nestled between both the snow covered log and the boulder where his back leans against. His arms tucked under his head. I cross my arms and growl.
“I’m going to get my own breakfast.” I say, “With Lifet.” I gesture to the man beside me and Altair looks at him with surprise for a second before pulling that face saying “I don’t care about anything” look which I know isn’t true. Varden is sitting on the opposite end of the clearing and glares at me and Altair. Not that it matters, I know that it’s not my fault that I’m supposed to marry him but I didn’t know he was there when Altair at that moment kissed me before him.
“Sure. My cooking’s better anyway.” he says and I glare.
“I won’t be the only one cooking it!” I growl and grasp Lifet’s hand pulling him away without another word to my comrades. “Damn! Him!” I growl as I drag Lifet behind me not that I notice until we are a far way away. I reluctantly release my grasp and apologize, “Sorry.”
A Crimson Tale Page 19
